A/N: These exams are really getting the best of me, damn it. Who wants to trade places with a guy who has to study Ancient Greek, Physics and Chemistry at the same time? That guy is me, unfortunately. I wish the whole fucking tree had fallen on Newton's head instead of only one apple. Or at least a big branch. Big enough to kill him on the spot.
Also, my old laptop died yesterday, after six years of pissing me off. RIP, annoying old laptop.
Question: Who would be the ideal boyfriend for Kadar? I can't think of someone right now, so... I'll leave it to you.
This isn't actually a real chapter, but anyway. It's more of a fill-in between the party and what happened after the P.E. class.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ASSASSIN'S CREED.

Sibrand sighed and leaned back against the wall. Where the fuck was Rober this time? He had checked every place they had both used at least once to smoke secretly at school, but he wasn't there. Had searched for him in the places he used to be when he skipped class. Not there. Sibrand could only hope Rober didn't decide to skip school today, of all days. He then heard the sound of familiar footsteps. He peered from the corner, and saw Kadar, or Prince Stupid, as he preffered to call him. A smirk appeared on his lips.

"Hey there, Prince Stupid. How comes you are alone? Your brother got tired of you and left you behind?"

"Shut up, Sibrand!"

"No, I won't shut up. Have you seen Rober?"

"Even if I had, why should I tell you?"

Sibrand chuckled evilly and grabbed Kadar by the throat. He laughed as he saw the slight wince in his eyes.

"You should tell me where Rober is because I'm not in the mood to ask politely, and now you can't deny you saw him. I'm having a bad day, so you should tell me. Or else I might send you to meet your maker."

Kadar tried to grab the hand on his throat to stop Sibrand from adding pressure, but the blonde just knocked his arms off with his free hand.

"I'll tell you if you let me go."

Sibrand let go of Kadar's throat and as Kadar was about to run, tripped him.

"Not so fast."

Kadar finally gave in, even though he would have liked to deny he had seen Rober, but this game was too dangerous for him. He knew why no one dared to mess with Sibrand when he was angry.

"Okay, I'll tell you! He was in café near the train station, please don't hurt me!"

Sibrand pulled his fist back, and made a move like he was about to punch Kadar straight in the face and break his nose, but last minute he stopped, threw Kadar on the floor, turned around and walked away.

Rober had just found a table, but he already regretted going there without his best friend.

'Why did I come here? Am I crazy? I don't want to remember my homeland... Not with how things turned out. I should have brought Seb here. He would have liked it, I know.'

Just then, he saw Sibrand entering, and was happy to see that he wasn't angry with him.

"Why the fuck are you not answering your phone?"

"Sorry, I didn't notice you were calling. How are you, Seb?"

"Not good. Do you have any money? I need something to get back to normal."

"Did something happen last night?"

Rober's voice was almost a whisper. That was one thing Sibrand liked about him: his discreetness. He never spoke loudly about important things.

"Can't talk here."

"Come on, Seb! There's no one else here! Is it that important?"

"Yeah, it is. Are we leaving?"

"In a minute."

Fifteen minutes later, the two were sitting in the train, going to Rober's home, Sibrand muttering curses in German because the train was crowded, and everyone was giving them the "Look at these two hoodlums." look. Rober was lost in his thoughts and worries, as always. When the train reached their stop, the two got off, and started walking towards Rober's street. By the time they reached Rober's place, Sibrand was already anxious.

"What's wrong?"

"What will your mother say? You know she dislikes me very much."

"Come on, Seb! I'll say you got sick and the teachers wanted me to make sure you arrived home safely, but the train was delayed and it arrived after school was out. If she asks, that is."

"She'll never believe it, but thanks anyway."

Rober grabbed his keys and opened the door. The two got in, and they both started climbing the staircase to Rober's room, but they heard a loud feminine voice.

"Rober! Come down here right now! You can't invite your friends over without getting my permission first, you know!"

Rober calmly turned around and did his best to avoid a fight with his mother. Rober's mother, a woman in her late forties or so, appeared from the room she used for her work. She was, after all, an author, who never looked happy to see Sibrand.

"Oh, it's just you. I was hoping my son had invited someone else exept you. You two seem to spend way too much time together."

Rober sighed, trying to hide his anger, and Sibrand just tried to ignore the insult the French woman threw at him.

They made their way up to Rober's room, where Rober turned on the radio and cranked up the volume, so his mother wouldn't listen to them talking. He then sat down by Sibrand's side on the bed, and lighted a cigarette. Sibrand exhaled deeply, filling the air around them with smoke.

"You okay?"

"No, Rober, I'm not okay. I've never been okay since... You know."

"Yeah. What happened this time?"

"I slapped the little brat for tearing my father's last photo apart, and then they... You get the picture."

"Is it bad?"

"No. It's not bad. I mean, there have been worse times."

"Let me see."

Sibrand took of his sleeveless top, once again revealing his scarred body. Rober got closer to examine the fresh wounds on his best friend's shoulder.

"It's not very deep, at least. But it still is bad. You need to bandage the wound, sit down and I'll do it for you."

Sibrand sighed, and clenched his fists as a cloth dipped in alchohol touched his wound.

"You know, you really shouldn't accept them treating you like shit."

"And what can I do, Rober? It's not like I have another choice. Shit, be careful! This hurts, you know."

"Sorry. I don't know. Report them to the police, maybe."

"You really think they would believe someone who has been diagnosed with paranoia and has a criminal record?"

"Your case is not of the heavy ones, Seb. Merde, your wound is really bad, after all. It's bleeding. Don't move, or this will hurt a lot more."

Rober finished cleaning and bandaging Sibrand's wound, but couldn't ignore the little cuts on his friends chest. It looked like someone had thrown something made of glass at Sibrand, and they didn't miss. He said nothing, though, knowing the situation his friend was into.

"Hey, are we going to the party?"

Sibrand was more than willing to change the topic, and was happy his friend decided to drop the previous one.

"Well... I don't know. I accidentically spilled sour cherry juice on the shirt I was planning to wear, and I can't think of a new outfit. How about you?"

"Remember how my mom was mad at me for buying that Sex Pistols t- shirt?"

"Yeah, and you planned to wear it at the party."

"Well, she 'accidentically' burnt it while ironing it. So, technically, I too can't think of what to wear."

"You could always wear that black sleeveless top with the skeleton giving the finger to everyone with your white jeans and black shoes. I can't think of anything, since most of my clothes need ironing."

"What about the 'biker's outfit'?"

"I don't have a helmet, Rober, remember? I can't drive without a helmet, and I don't want to."

"My father has one in the garage."

"And mine used to drive wearing a military helmet and goggles! I think I still have them in my things..."

"You'll look like a skinhead with your punk clothes and the military helmet."

"I'll take that as a compliment, poser."

"Well, I think that solves the transportation problem, because my dad took the keys to my car, and I wont see them until Monday."

"Well, that's a pity. So, what time is it?"

"I don't know, but we still have time to change and to go buy a present for Leonardo."

"Let's go now, because I hate being late."

'Well, at least Malik was wrong about the test... Wait... What the... What's this paper? No! Why are you doing this to me? I suck at Maths, and I don't even know what this test is about! Oh, crap. I'm gonna fail this big time. And our mathematic genius is sitting too far away for me to copy his answers, the girls are so not going to let me cheat with their knowledge. At least Shaun's not sitting near me, I don't want him to think I'm an idiot, because- Damn you, Miles. Damn you.'

When the bell rang, the fatso told them to stop writing and give their tests back, and Desmond looked like he had been hit by a train.

"Did it go well?"

"Does my face look like it went well, Malik?"

"Well, not exactely. Your cousins almost fainted, if that helps. How are you feeling, now that you've faced the horror of Maths?"

"You know, last time, I thought I was at the bottom of the bottle. But now, it's the bottom, a big pile of shit, and then Desmond Miles. On the top, sits my cousin with the Worm, who didn't let me sleep last night. And also made me cut myself while shaving."

"Ouch. So, you ready for the party?"

"Yeah. What about you? What did you get Leo?"

"Well, I got him one of these books he reads. You know, romantic poetry and such. What did you get him?"

"Ezio told me Leonardo likes classical music, so I got him a CD. You know, I've never been to parties like this one before, so, I'm curious, what is it going to be like?"

"Well, it's gonna be like 'loud music, drunk people, and angry Ezio'. But it might be one of the few times your cousin will not fight with de Sable and Sibrand. And did I mention Cesare?"

"Who is this guy?"

"He's the son of a very rich businessman, Rodrigo Borgia. He is also an old friend of Leonardo's, and Ezio hates his guts. Some say Leonardo used to be his boyfriend, and Ezio was jealous. His father used to be funding many charitable institutions , like orphanages and stuff. There are some rumors that he used them as a cover for his dirty buisiness. You know, illegal trades, conspiracies, drug trafficking, stuff like that."

"Whoa... And Leonardo's friends with his son?"

"I don't know Cesare, he could be a good guy, after all. You know, at least he has a healthy sense of humor, unlike your two cousins."

"Anyway, I don't see how it is going to be 'angry Ezio'."

"Did I mention Cesare constantly hitting on Leonardo?"

"Oh. That's how. Well, there's nothing we can do about that. Also, Mal, could you give me a ride home after the party? I don't want to sit on the infected seat in Altair's car."

"What, don't tell me Maria will also be at this party?"

"Unfortunately, yes, she is going to be there, too."

"I smell trouble, pal, and mark my words: Altair Ibn-La'Ahad and Ezio Audittore da Firenze are going to get their asses kicked by Rober de Sable and Cesare Borgia."

Paranoia is a thought process heavily influenced by anxiety or fear, often to the point of irrationality and delusion.

Wikipedia

A/N: And there goes the 9th chapter... Shit, it's like 5 a.m. here in Greece, and those annoying canarys have already started singing... Who agrees with me that Chemistry sucks, especially combined with studying Ancent Greek... Next chapter is the party, and it is going to be NSFW. Which means lemons, people. Also, I'd like to make an announcement: If you find any typos, or things like that, say so. I'm too tired to spell check, and I'm not going to trust Argi again. Not after he swapped the only water bottle in the fridge with one filled with Ouzo just to get back at me for putting salt in his coffee. Anyway, good morning, or good night, depends on which country you live in. Yay for me getting a new computer next week!

Kaiser